


Untitled

by sasha_b



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-22
Updated: 2011-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_b/pseuds/sasha_b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone knows; Moira just wants to see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

Moira thinks they may as well admit it. Or at least stop eyefucking each other around the kids.

She’s not angry or jealous, not in the least. The two men are the only equals, after all. They’re the _adults,_ the ones with the biggest and best powers, and the children they are training couldn’t possibly provide any kind of companionship for either Charles or Erik. Especially Erik. She wonders about him, wonders what he thinks, what he really feels when he’s twisting and bending things that ought to require a crane and twenty men in hard hats to move.

She’s seen him without a shirt once; the hard planes of his muscles flat and strong and yet there’s the number on his left arm, the arm he always uses when he’s training. She’s seen him shoot a gun – he’s not left-handed, so she wonders too what that’s about. She finds it hard to think about Erik - Magneto - for too long without her mind going to a place she's not comfortable with. Besides, Charles would know and then how in the hell would she explain herself to him? It was better to be interested in Charles; he didn't scare her.

Although when she thought more about it, he probably should.

She watches Charles and Erik lean conspiratorially into each other as they drink and play chess and argue and look at the large collection of books Xavier owns. Once she catches Erik thumbing slowly through a tiny worn copy of what can only be a children’s book; she turns to leave him alone but remains frozen in place as Charles joins him, the night sky shining through the windows reflecting on Erik’s perfect skin. He turns his head toward the smaller man and Moira covers her mouth with her hand as she watches Erik Lehnsherr cry silently, watches as Xavier takes the book out of the other man’s hand and gently touches his forehead to Erik’s. The two men don’t speak, but Moira watches and strains to listen, wishing for the hundredth time she had some kind, any kind of mutant power that would give her a love like these two so obviously have. And yet what do they do?

Erik’s hand cups the back of Charles’ head and pulls him into the shadows of the room, to where Moira can’t see them. She takes one step forward, _damn it_ she wants to _see_ and is suddenly forcibly propelled backward out of the room, her bootheels dragging on the polished pristine floor, the doors sliding shut in front of her, frustrating, infuriating, for the god’s own sake! everyone knows! She just wants to see, just for a minute.

 _No_ echoes in her head, and she bites back a helpless growl.

Whirling on her heel, she stomps to the kitchen, and finds the good brandy Charles has hidden away like she’s a bad schoolgirl and can’t control herself. She’s an _adult_ too. She might not be one of the chosen ones, one of the golden children, or even the intelligent, terrifying, brilliant beautiful man that Charles seems to value above everyone else, but she’s got a gift in her own right.  


She’s the human in this mutant world – and she can get them in and out of where they need to go. With just her human abilities and human connections.

She drinks and watches the wall and isn’t jealous or angry.


End file.
